


a song for someone

by starsandsecrets



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, Hunk (Voltron) Has Two Moms, Keith and Shiro are half brothers, Lances family - Freeform, M/M, Minor Character Death, Parental Death, Underage Drinking, Weddings, allura is like that drunk aunt, allura shiro and adam are war veterans, and are getting married, and rover is also a cat, coming home, i love short paragraphs and italics thank you, ill probably add more tags as i go along, keith works a library, lance is a singer, lance is very religious, lances language is terrible, lotors a bit of a dick, pidge is a lesbian, pidge really likes the exorcist, sorry i can’t write dialogue for shit, the cheesy romance, the lions are cats, we all needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandsecrets/pseuds/starsandsecrets
Summary: Five years ago Lance left his hometown after being discovered by a record label who saw his online covers. Five years ago Keith promised to forget the boy he thought he loved. Now, with a wedding on the horizon, they meet again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this will be my first multichapter fic and I kind of don’t know where I’m going. But I’ve got a vague storyline and hopefully I’ll manage to have a regular upload schedule (next joke). I really hope you enjoy this first chapter!!!
> 
> Update: with everything that is happening right now, I’ve decided to make shadam a couple instead of shallura. there’s not a lot known about him so I’ll try to do my best with what we have. 
> 
> I also have a Klance new year’s eve one shot, if you’re interested!

The whole world was in love with Lance McLain.

Was that an exaggeration? Maybe, but only by a small amount.

What Keith meant when he thought this was that the whole world either wanted to kiss Lance or be him. Sometimes he meant that he couldn’t go on a bus ride without seeing Lance’s face plastered on one of those magazines that sold cheap gossip and secrets.

Lance seemed to have a lot of those, secrets. He must have had for the amount of times that Keith’s made eye contact with his photograph on the train.

_(Keith liked to think he still knew some of Lance’s secrets.)_

_(It is also important to note that if Keith died, his ghost would still hold his grudges. He liked to call it a talent.)_

Lance McLain’s rise to fame was inspirational. He was scouted by a talent agency when he was seventeen, after his covers blew up on the internet; he was fresh-faced and young, bringing a new voice to the music industry. And now, after a few scandals, at twenty-two his career was still going strong with no signs of stopping. Lance McLain was a celebrity. And a good, if not stereotypical one at that.

_(Pidge liked to say it was all a marketing ploy, she was probably right.)_

It’s not that Keith was _jealous_. Keith was generally a bitter person. He blamed it on his troubled childhood. Growing up and being passed around the foster system until a mystery father _(and half-brother)_ was found will do that to a kid.

Back to the point.

Keith had grown used to seeing his ex-boyfriend in the public eye. Yes, ex-boyfriend. Keith and Lance had a _particularly_ rocky history from their teenage years, which Keith thanked god everyday never came up in interviews. Though he didn’t think Lance would ever want to talk about him after their last encounter anyway.

_(Keith was a good liar.)_

And if Keith was being really honest, he didn’t care about Lance _that_ much. Yeah, he was an important part of his teenage years but Keith was an adult now. He had adult responsibilities which were not moping over a relationship from when he was a teen. He got over Lance years ago.

_(Fact: an exceptionally good liar can lie to themselves.)_

 

Shiro called when Keith was at work. This was a common reoccurrence. Keith never seemed to be in the right place when his older brother wanted him.

Keith worked at a library downtown. He had since he was a teenager and needed money for teenager things, like cheap alcohol and cigarettes, but that was irrelevant.

It always started with his phone ringing from his back pocket and the librarian with the pointy, jewelled glasses glaring at him because

‘Mr. Kogane, you’re meant to keep your phone in the staff office to prevent this....’

 

‘Keith?’

‘Sorry, Keith is unavailable at the moment, please leave you message after the beep.’

‘You’re a literal child.’

‘Interesting.’

He could hear his brother’s sigh through the phone. He smiled, Shiro really was too _easy_ to wind up, you’d have think he’d have learned by now.

‘Can you just listen to me? Or can your child brain not comprehend that?’

‘Look if you freaking out about the wedding again I swear-’

‘It’s more like I’ve been in a prolonged state of freaking out since the proposal.’

‘That’s nice to hear. Did you call me for a therapy session or can I go back to work now?’

‘Why are you this way?’

‘Childhood trauma. I’m going to hang up.’

Another sigh came through the phone. Keith smiled again.

‘Ok. Keith. I’ll spell it out, I need your help, which is probably a mistake, but I really do.’

Everyone that was involved with the wedding had banned Keith from planning things. He wasn’t the most organised person alive and maybe not the best suited for it. A few months ago he took pity on the two who looked like they had been having reoccurring nervous breakdowns _(he was not wrong)_ and tried to place the order for the cake.

To cut a long and embarrassing story short, Shiro and Adam would’ve had a ‘Happy 4th Birthday’ cake at their wedding if not for Hunk, their friend who worked at the bakery. They had all decided Keith would never live it down, he could respect that. He could also respect that they had then took away all his planning duties. He’d been enjoying all the spare time he had.

It was Keith who sighed this time.

‘Yeah, yeah. What do you need?’

_(He ended up getting a pen and paper to write a list down.)_

‘Oh and I left a few wedding invites in your car, would you mind posting them?’

‘Just e-mail them, who are you, dad?’

‘Keith. Adam wants them _posted_. So you will post them or he will have a _problem_.’

_(Side note: Adam was a badass soldier that Shiro had met during his days in the military.)_

‘Posting it is. Get some sleep.’

Keith hung up. He acted like he didn’t care but in reality this was the happiest he’d ever seen his older brother. When Shiro had come back from the army, a shitload of trauma had followed. He had lost an arm in a rescue mission, saving a fellow soldier and a family from a bomb. He’d been lucky to survive, no one really though he would. Except Keith.

Keith thought when Shiro woke up everything would be okay, it wasn’t. Keith heard Shiro waking up every night, screaming. He would have flashbacks, panic attacks and Keith never knew what do or he was too scared that what he would do wouldn’t be the _right_ thing. Adam knew though, sometimes he got them too. Keith wanted to help him so bad, but he couldn’t.

_(Keith would do anything for Shiro)_

_(Shiro would do anything for Keith)_

 

Keith’s shift finished at five. Which left him plenty of time to post the invitations, check the order for decorations and the rest of the tasks that he’d been instructed to do.

He signed out and climbed into the driver’s seat of his car, a tired, old thing. It smelt vaguely of cigarette smoke and the black leather was all scratched.

It used to be Shiro’s car and it had been handed down to Keith when he was sixteen. He had saved his money from working shifts at the library and the local grocery store for a paint job, and when he had the car was repainted and christened _Red_.

_(Okay look, he wasn’t the most creative when he a teenager)_

He opened the broken glovebox and searched through pens and empty cigarette boxes, looking for the invitations. They were in cream envelopes with gold trimming around the edges, the names written in some fancy cursive that he had no doubt was Adam’s doing. Classy.

Keith was never one to pry, it wasn’t his way. Although he was good at keeping other people secrets, he never had any of his own. He’d rather confront someone point blank than sneak behind their back. Probably why he got into so many fistfights in high school.

_(Who was he kidding, middle school as well)_

So he started the car, after doing a silent prayer. _Red_ was his baby and he loved her, but if he was telling the truth, she was not the most reliable thing on earth. The engine hummed to life on the second try, the familiar noise breaking through the colourful string of language erupting from Keith’s mouth.

If Keith had looked at the invites, who they were for. He would’ve recognised a few names. His grandfather for example _(who he was sure wouldn’t turn up)_ or his distant cousin he had met once at a reunion ( _the one who pinched his cheeks)._

But one name would’ve stuck out.

_(That was where the story began)_

 

 

Lance McLain was having a shitty day.

Scratch that, he was having the _shittest_ day.

He was always one for drama, but in this case he felt that it was justified.

Probably.

_(In reality Lance knew he was most likely overreacting, but would he admit it? No.)_

He was sitting in his manager’s office, picking at his nails and staring at the floor while his dick of a manager lectured him about something. Maybe it was the recent drug accusations that had emerged from nowhere. Or the rumours that he was going to leave the label for another.

_(He could only wish)_

Or maybe it was the recent, public break-up that had just happened between him and Nyma Bounty, the social media model that had rose to fame in a similar way to him. _Okay_ , now Lance thought about it, maybe breaking up with Nyma wasn’t such a good idea. But the ulterior motive behind the whole relationship had been to boost the attention they both got. And wasn’t that what he just did by breaking up?

Whatever. He wasn’t listening.

Lance was unhappy, though he’d never say it out loud. Yeah, he had good times, but there was always a layer of facade over them. When he’d go out with his friends, partying, getting drunk off his face, there was sadness ever present. Music used to be a thing that he loved, and people loved him for. The latter was still true but whenever he sang nowadays there was melancholy laced through the superficial happiness of it.

He knew he was lucky, he’d had a once in a lifetime chance to make something of himself and he’d took it willingly. But he was young, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it had been the right choice. If leaving had been the right choice.

But he wasn’t _stupid_ , even if he did act it. He knew that he had nothing to complain about, this was life everyone dreamed of. Walking red carpets every other week and selling sold out concerts, full of screaming fans that were there for him.

_(Even if every time he did that he felt like more of a lie)_

He’d been able to provide for his family, what with his father dying and his mother taking care of his younger siblings. He’d bought them a house, a big one. Bigger than the house where he’d shared a room with his three brothers. The tiny space had suffocated Lance, had _smothered_ him until he couldn’t breathe. But now...now he couldn’t help but wish for that. A hug from his mother would make the loneliness go away. A hand on his shoulder from Marco would make him smile. A quick visit to the church with Luis would make him laugh. A playful push from Veronica would fill the empty hole he’d felt growing deep inside.

God, he needed to call his mom.

_(He needed much more than that)_

“Lance you’re not even _listening_ to me.” Lotor threw his hands in the air, disturbing the long, white ponytail that rested neatly on his shoulder.

“What did you say?”

“I said that it’s only because of me fixing your fuck ups that you still have a career, so why don’t you do what I say for once.” Lotor stood up and the chair knocked to the floor with a bang. Lance looked back down at his hands, bored. It wasn’t unusual for Lotor to be pissed, in fact he had quite a reputation for it.

“Not to mention the label had been on my back for the new album. Which you still haven’t started.” Lotor took a breath, his face red. Lance liked red, it reminded him of carefree years and dark hair, but he made the colour ugly, like blood instead of sunsets.

“I’ll start writing soon, I’ve just been...

_(What had he been? Unmotivated? Empty? He settled on busy.)_

Busy.”

“Whatever, but we will drop you. There are plenty of other people out there, just as good if not better than you. You’re _easily_ replaced Mr. McLain.” Lotor huffed, picking us his chair and dropping in it roughly. “Now get out of my office.”

Lance stomped out, like a child, then made a rude gesture at the closed door, like a child and then he made it again, just for good measure.

He wanted to sleep.

 

When Lance walked through his front door, into his ‘too big for just one person’ house he noticed two things. The first being that his guitar was dusty, it hadn’t been touched in a couple of weeks and it was showing.

His friends from his hometown had bought him it for his fourteenth birthday. They said they were sick of him being called to the principal’s office for taking the school guitars home. But they all knew it was because Lance loved playing it more than anything, and they knew Lance better than anyone.

The second thing he noticed was a letter. It wasn’t uncommon for the mailman to deliver a large number of letters, the majority fanmail, the rest bills or bank statements. But this one looked different. The handwriting was cursive, and he knew the familiar pattern of it.

He picked it up and ran his fingers over it gingerly. He carefully opened it and pulled out the paper.

_**‘Lance McLain, you are cordially invited to the wedding of Adam Webster and Takashi Shirogane.’** _

He smiled in spite of himself, the last he had seen of Shiro and Adam was them being too nervous to ask each other out on a date.

There was a slip of paper in the back, written in a slanted scrawl, a stark contrast to the elegant writing of the invitation.

**_‘Hey Lance, I know we haven’t talked for a long time, but I hope you’ll attend. I’d like to catch up before the wedding though. I know it’s probably a bit short notice and you’re probably busy. Just give me a call when you’ve decided._ **

**_Love, Shiro ( & Adam)’ _ **

There was a number below.

Lance desperately needed a break, from this life, this _place_. So he made the decision very quickly.

_(He always was impulsive, he never knew if it was a flaw or a strength.)_

He reached into his pocket and stabbed his phone, but he called a different number.

‘Hey, Lotor. I’m thinking of taking a break for few weeks’

He tapped the back of his phone with his finger nervously.

He was going _home_. 


	2. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to when Keith first met Hunk, Pidge and Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had most of this written for a while but as I said in my ‘a family found’ notes, I’ve been so unmotivated to finish. But putting up a story and seeing that people are reading, it really made me want to put another chapter of ‘a song for someone’ up. I hope you enjoy it!! Please check out my other voltron fics!

 

The first time Keith saw Lance would change his life.

_(Of course he didn’t know this at the time, how could he?)_

He was just this ever present energy, a constant buzz in the air that disrupted the space around. Lance McLain was one of those people that was deafening even if they weren’t talking.

Keith on the other hand, was the new kid in school. He’d moved to a new town when Shiro was deep in recovery. His father said he wanted to leave their old place, he never voiced the complete reason why though. But Keith understood.

There were too many memories of hospital rooms and doctor’s concerned faces and the sterility that seemed to linger on Keith and his father when they would go home in silence, both bottling up everything inside.

_(Shiro had always been the open one.)_

None of them could stay in that place any longer without pain.

So they moved, packed up all the stuff in their tiny house and moved to an even tinier one. A small two-bedroom apartment that was near enough to his new school that he could walk. They didn’t have much money, Shiro’s medical bills were gigantic and their dad was working three jobs to provide. They didn’t have much, but at least they had each other.

_(At least they had Shiro)_

  
Keith got a job in the town library, it wasn’t well paying but it was calm, a change from the rest of his life, and he would always manage to steal a book and disappear into the backroom.

School was the real issue. Keith had never had many friends. He grew up in the foster system after his mother died after a car accident as they couldn’t locate his father. He wouldn’t allow himself get attached to anyone in those years because they always were taken away, so when his father and Shiro were found when he was thirteen he was reluctant. But he didn’t regret it, even if Shiro did put him through a world of worry.

So when he walked through the large entrance to Garrison High after a long night of hearing Shiro‘s laboured breathing and weak sobs from the bed next to him, the bags under his eyes more prominent than they should be, and heard the shrilling screech of a student he grabbed his bag a bit tighter and considered throwing it at the source of the noise.

A boy ran past him with a speed that _really_ shouldn’t have been utilised in the narrow, packed corridors of high school and suddenly Keith was on the ground.

He felt his face heat up and he could tell he was red with embarrassment.

The boy yelled a quick apology as he darted away once more. A large, buff teenager running in his stead screaming, “I’ll fucking kill you McLain!” Keith was still on the floor collecting the things that had fallen from his bag when he’s fell, he tried to keep his face down to attract the least amount of attention he could.

_(It didn’t work)_

Two shadows approached him and Keith clenched his fists tighter. He only came to school because Shiro begged him and Keith could never really refuse Shiro, but he might have to reconsider if another person tried to talk to him.

“Hey man, sorry about that.” Keith looked up to the voice was coming from. A tall boy with dark skin held his hand out in front on him, Keith ignored it and pushed himself up on his own.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Keith replied, avoiding eye contact and brushing the dust off his black jeans.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, you new?” This voice came from a small girl with light brown hair who was standing by the boy, she looked too young to be in high school and had large glasses that looked like they would fall off her nose at any moment.

“Yeah.” He replied shortly, he wanted to get to class as soon as possible and let the work take over his mind.

“Really? I’m Hunk Garrett and this is Katie Holt, though she _will_ beat you up if you call her anything other than Pidge, You?” The boy, Hunk, said kindly while gesturing to Pidge.

“Keith, Keith Kogane, I’m a sophomore.”

“Nice to meet you. Do you know who you’ve got first?” Hunk asked again with a smile.

“Umm, math with someone called Sendak?” Keith squinted at his timetable, he would answer all the questions in the world if it would make these two go away.

“Really? Me too! I’m a sophmore as well, Pidge is only a freshman but anyway, I can help you to class if you want?” Hunk offered with a grin.

_(Keith was going to quite literally vomit if he smiled again. How could a person be so happy?)_

“Umm, thanks?” He replied, he tried to be polite and smile back but it ended up looking like a grimace.

”Finally. This one looks like an asshole. We need one of them, you’re all too nice.” Pidge said almost approvingly. “I vote we adopt him.”

“Thanks I guess but-“

“Sit with us at lunch?”

_(That was the question that would trigger his life to change.)_

  
Keith _hated_ this school after only a few hours of being there. Keith thought he was a bright kid, he didn’t do to bad in schools when he was younger. The only problem being the constant moving around, and he even dared to hope that he’d like it here.

_(He was wrong.)_

Keith had never been happier to hear a bell ring in his life. As the kids filed out of the classroom, the air buzzing with warm conversation he made his way down to the cafeteria where he had promised to meet Hunk and Pidge.

He saw a small hand waving at him from one of the tables and he sighed in relief, he didn’t know why but he wanted to sit with them, he had never really wanted to make friends before.

He eventually found the two people he was looking for and slid into one of the chairs pulling a tub with a couple of slices of last nights pizza out.

“Hey Keith, you been finding your way round okay?” Hunk asked as he dug into his lunch.

“Yeah, I think. I was a bit late for-“  
Keith was interrupted when a lanky boy threw himself into the seat.

“Guys you’ll never fucking believe what happened so basically I was-“ The boy said frantically with a bright look in his eyes before he was cut of by Hunk.

“Lance.”

“Hunk, wait who are you?” He said as he finally noticed Keith sitting next to him.

“We adopted him. You’re out, I’m sorry McLain, it had to be done.” Pidge said sarcastically as she toyed with something metal that Keith couldn’t recognise.

“Har har.” Lance said as he rolled his eyes. “Pidge have I ever told you how hilarious you are, because truly.” He made an ‘ok’ gesture with his hands.

“You don’t need to tell me, I’m fully aware. This is Keith by the way. He’s new.” Pidge said, she didn’t look up but nodded her head towards Keith. “He’s the one you knocked over this morning.”

“Really, oh shit, sorry man. I was getting fucking chased by this dude called Rolo because, well, me and his girlfriend-“

“I’m gonna stop you there. I really don’t need to know what you were doing with his girlfriend.” Keith put his hands up as he spoke. Lance McLain, he suited the name. He was tall, with light brown skin and dark hair. He was the kind of guy that would be out of Keith’s league.

_(If he was interested, which he wasn’t)_

“What? No, I wasn’t doing anything, he’s really fucking protective and we’re working on a project together. _Super_ unhealthy if you ask me.” Lance said with a laugh. “But you know if it was up to me-”

“Ok, now I’m going to stop you. Sorry Keith, he’s tries to be a flirt.” Hunk said with a fond roll of the eyes.

“Emphasis on tries. No one in the school is safe from him, though he do have a harder time flirting with the painfully straight quarterbacks.” Pidge added as Lance mock gasped.

“Please, Them and their toxic masculinity only beat me up once.”

This incessant joking continued all through lunch, but Keith enjoyed it. It was comforting to see people who were so comfortable with each other, it made him wish he had that.

 

Lance caught up with him on his way to class, slightly jogging to meet him in the hall.

“Hey, I am sorry for knocking you over this morning. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He was looking at the floor, playing with a little cross hanging around his neck.

“I know, it’s fine. No one got hurt.” Keith meant it, laughing with them at lunch had cured any anger he might have had at Lance.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

“I guess I’ll see you later.”

  
He did indeed see Keith later.

The three friends, as Pidge said, adopted him into their friendships group. They hung out most days. They saw each other at school all week then had a movie night Saturday.

Keith learnt a lot about them from their taste in movies. Pidge loved horror, Hunk adored romcoms and Lance loved musicals.

_(And goddamn, that boy could sing.)_

Lance went to church on Sundays, Keith learnt he came from an _extremely_ religious family and church lasted most of the day for them. He saw Lance carry his little cross necklace everywhere and play with it when he was nervous.

Keith didn’t know what was happening. He had always been so withdrawn, building his walls so high that he felt totally enclosed in them. But it felt like his friends, if could he call them that, were bulldozing them down conversation by conversation.

 

He met there families. Hunk lived with his two moms in a restaurant in the quiet part of town. It was mostly full of elderly people and regulars that had been going since it opened. But Keith liked it there, it was calming, and the food was delicious which helped.

His moms were nice too. One had Hunk’s dark skin and looked physically like him but the other had his mannerisms, his attitude.

 

Pidge’s family was full of academics. Her father was a rocket scientist and her mother was a doctor. Her brother was around the same age as Shiro and was studying to follow in his father footsteps.

Keith liked her mom the best, she was Italian and spoke with a soft accent, easily blending the two languages together. Her and her brother looked like carbon copies of her father in all his sandy hair and glasses glory.

 

Lance’s family could be described in one word; _chaos_. He had three brothers and three sisters all crammed into a tiny house. There was lively music playing constantly and dirty laundry strewn everywhere. There was no privacy in the McLain household it seemed.

Lance was the third oldest, his brother and sister both respectively older. Keith never saw Lance’s father, he was always sick, lying in bed all the time while his fierce and strong mother controlled the children and looked after the house.

Mrs. McLain truly was a _badass_ , raising seven kids was something Keith was sure not just anyone could handle.

 

It was so _different_ to Keith’s home. Him and his father had barely anything in common, only his mother and they never talked about her, so their conversations were nothing like the kind questionings of the Garrett home or the almost violent debates from the Holts or the comfortable banter of the McLains.

 

But he told them anyway. Or at least the bare minimum. Keith told them his mom died so he was put into foster care.

_(He most definitely did not expand on that.)_

He told them that they found his father and his half-brother. That his brother was a war veteran with PTSD, that’s why they moved. That some days it gets hard for his family. He was met with reassuring pats on his shoulders and ‘you know you can talk to us’.

_(But really that’s all he wanted from them. All he could ask from them.)_

 

So when Shiro asked him if he had made any friends in school after coming back from therapy one night. Keith didn’t have to lie. He said yes and when Shiro asked about them, he had plenty to say.

He didn’t know everything about them yet, and didn’t know everything about him, but he felt like he would. For the first time he was glad his life changed.

Keith felt like he was going to be happy here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I’m not sure when the next chapter will be up but I promise I will be writing it!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance’s decision. Pidge and Hunk are introduced. Shiro is stressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So Pidge and Hunk are introduced now as well as Shiro getting a POV. Again I’ve had Keith’s POV from this chapter written for a few days but I finally finished it and reached my word goal! Please enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Update: can you guess what adam’s family is a metaphor for?
> 
> Go check out my voltron series ‘a few wild souls’!

 

When Lance moved away at seventeen he never thought he would come back. Back then he wouldn’t have wanted to come back to the smalltown, suffocating life he’d always be so desperate to get away from.

So when he got the opportunity to move to Los Angeles after his first album was released and went straight to the top of the charts, he jumped at the chance. When he had enough money he bought his mom a house. He wanted her to start fresh after his father died a few months earlier, and what better way to start fresh was there?

_(The voice in Lance’s head said that his family staying together was.)_

_(He ignored it.)_

His record label was expecting his fifth album soon. His music had changed over the years, he went from playing the songs he loved, simple ballads played on only his guitar, they made up his first album. Now he was expected to produce pop songs that felt too big and meaningless for him. The label had previously asked him if he wanted to have a team of songwriters working for him, to help him get out songs faster.

Lance said no. He’d wanted the songs to come from him.

_(He didn’t want to lose the one piece of authenticity he had left.)_

So he decided he needed a break from this plastic-smiled, fake world that he lived in.

_(From his plastic-smiled, fake self.)_

His manager, Lotor was hesitant to let him have time off, he was already slacking in his songwriting. But Lance argued that this would be good for the press; ‘ _Overnight singing sensation returns to humble beginnings_ ’ or some shit like that. Lance could practically see Lotor’s eyes light up at the mention of more publicity, the money-hungry dick.

So that’s how he ended up in a rented car driving down the freeway, music playing through the speakers.

_(Not his music, he didn’t think he could bare hearing his own voice singing it.)_

His guitar lay in the backseat, along with a few clothes and essentials. He was, not regretting, but questioning this decision. For one, he had nowhere to stay, his family didn’t live there anymore.

Ok, now that was a lie. He had an older sister, Nina, who still lived in town but he hadn’t spoken to her since he left. She didn’t approved of his choice to go. They weren’t on good terms.

_(Lance missed her though.)_

He guessed he _could_ ask Adam and Shiro or even Allura, who had been around for a few years after she left the military, if they’d be willing to take him in until the wedding. He didn’t know if anyone would say yes though.

Secondly, he hadn’t seen his childhood friends in years. Five years to be exact, at the time he figured it would be to painful to leave home if he stayed in contact with them.

_(Lance had made a lot of bad choices, but that? That one was one of his worst.)_

Lance didn’t know them anymore and they were as good as strangers to him. That thought scared him.

_(There was of course a third problem, but Lance preferred to deny that one until the very last second.)_

_(A reminder: Lance made very bad choices.)_

Lance took a deep breath in, he’d only been driving for a few hours. He had plenty of time to mull everything around in his head, plenty of time to turn back if he felt like he couldn’t go on.

_(Which he seriously considered a few times.)_

He shook his head, if he could perform on stage in front of thousands of people he could go back to his hometown, see the people that he considered family when he was a teenager.

At least he thought he could.

 

Hunk and Pidge had been the first people that Keith had met after his family moved.

_(Unless you counted Lance knocking him over. Keith preferred not to.)_

At first he wasn’t sure about them, he thought they wouldn’t be the type of people he wanted to befriend. He had never been more wrong in his life.

Hunk was the serious one in their little friendship group. The one that always tried to stop Keith and Pidge doing stupid things, like camping out in the woods in the middle of winter because they had heard there was ‘ghost activity’ and needed to investigate.

Pidge on the other hand was a lot to handle. When he moved into her house at nineteen, her parents had decided to move closer to where her father worked, he did not think living with her would turn be this difficult. One day, after a few months of living with her, he went to open the cupboard for a plate and a _cat_ jumped out.

_(Keith wasn’t ashamed to admit he screamed like a baby.)_

Pidge nonchalantly said that she found him in the dumpster while looking for metal parts. Keith screamed some more at this, he didn’t talk to Pidge for three days after.

_(Eventually he decided to let her keep the cat, which was dubbed Rover. It was only when they took him too the vet they discovered it it was a ‘she’)_

They’d had a weekly tradition of Saturday movie night since before Keith had even met them. They’d order in as much pizza as they could, with Pidge always arguing for pineapple and Hunk, ever the food critic, taking it as a personal offence.

Then when they finally convinced either Shiro or Matt to buy them some or they went into the seedy corner shop who they knew sold it to underage kids, alcohol was introduced to these weekly meetings.

The first time they all got drunk was a night they’d never forget, though they didn’t remember that much. Hunk turned into this judgmental asshole who said everything passive-aggressively. Pidge was an unexpected giggly drunk, falling over from laughing so hard more than once.

It was also a night of accidental drunken confessions, it was the night that Lance told Keith he had feelings for him.

_(Remembering that night was bittersweet. It made him laugh to think what idiots they’d been when they were young, but also sad because he knew how it ended.)_

Currently, Pidge was on the phone to their regular pizza place, and Hunk was dropping something off at his moms’ from the bakery where he worked. Keith was sitting on the couch with Rover in his knee. They’d recently found out that she was pregnant with kittens and it was like she now _expected_ to be doted on, the couch was now Rover’s territory.

Keith was scrolling through his phone, the TV was on, some show about space playing in the background. He could hear Pidge’s voice coming from the kitchen, talking about what extra toppings they wanted. Shiro was texting him to remind him to ask Hunk about fitting dates, Hunk was a groomsman, while Keith mocked him gently.

‘Yeah, I know. I’ll tell him about our little dress-up date, don’t worry.’

‘I would argue, but I’m exhausted and I don’t have the energy to reprimand you right now.’ Shiro’s tired voice drifted through the phone.

‘Don’t worry, you’ve done it enough I can imagine it. Right now you’re shaking your head disapprovingly.’

‘Not going to bother. Bye.’ His lack of an answer confirmed what Keith already knew.

‘See you later.’ They said there goodbyes just as Pidge entered the room and threw herself on the couch. There was a crack and Keith winced.

“You know if you break this couch again, your parents won’t replace it.” Keith remembered the time when Pidge decided to do a running jump on to the old couch and went straight through it.

“If I remember correctly, it was _you_ who dared me to do that very accurate display of gymnastics, so who’s really to blame?” She remarked as she snatched Rover from Keith’s lap.

“No. I said ‘ _Pidge don’t do a running jump on your parents’ old couch_ ’ and you said ‘ _don’t tell me what to do bitchbaby_ ’. Then you did it anyway.

“Semantics.” Pidge wave her hand to dismiss what Keith said. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the TV remote.

“When’s Hunk getting here?” Keith asked as he skipped through a few channels.

“He was just leaving the restaurant when he texted, so soon hopefully.”

They sat in comfortable silence, Rover’s purrs the only sound in the house until they heard the door open.

“Hey guys. I brought wine, is the pizza here yet?” Hunk‘s voice drifted in as they heard him scuffling to get his shoes off.

“Twenty minutes. Where’s my drink?” Pidge shouted back.

“You know, everytime we have these little meetings, I worry we’re enabling your secret alcohol addiction.” Hunk said as he entered the room holding up two bottles of red wine.

“Nah. I’m just acting like every other twenty-one year old that’s now allowed to legally drink.” Pidge jumped up from the couch, which let out another unhealthy creak, and another wince from Keith. “I’m going to get glasses.”

“You pretend that you _weren’t_ drinking illegally at fifteen.” Keith let out with a laugh. Pidge retorted with a rude gesture then disappeared into the kitchen.

Hunk and Keith dissolved into conversation, Keith asked how his moms’ were, Hunk asked how the wedding plans were going, which brought up the topic of the fittings. Pidge came back and dropped herself in between them.

“Now for this evening’s session I thought we’d start off with a classic.” Pidge started as she poured the wine. “A truly excellent-“

“You really want to watch The Exorcist _again_?” Hunk asked with a nauseous look on his face. “We watch it every week and somehow I hate it more everytime.”

“Yes.”

“Keith, pass me the whole bottle.” Hunk sighed. “I’ll need it to get myself through this again.” Keith obliged. Pidge had an obsession with that film that Keith couldn’t understand. Hunk was less than fond of it.

“Ok, so _now_ who’s the secret alcoholic?”

 

Shiro was stressed. He had been stressed since Adam had popped the question to him in a fancy restaurant that he wasn’t sure they could afford. Actually planning the wedding was draining the life out of him, but still he wanted them to be totally prepared, wanted their day to be perfect.

With only a little under two months to go until the big day, the fact that he was actually getting married was dawning on him. That Adam would finally be his husband. Allura had always said she knew it would happen

He remembered when he met them both, he’d just been transferred to a different unit that was more involved in the fighting. Adam was a strong soldier who took no shit from the other people who told him that ‘the army was no place for a gay man.’ Allura, their best friend was much the same, she got told that because she was a woman she couldn’t fight. They’d earned Shiro’s respect almost immediately when they’d defended themselves against one of these men and left him cowering in his tent. Him and Adam knew from experience, Allura was strangely frightening when she was angry.

_(After everything him and Adam had been though, he wanted this wedding to go on without a hitch.)_

There was no reason why anything _shouldn’t_ go to plan, if Adam was anything he was a perfectionist. The venue was beautiful, the decorations were amazing and although they hadn’t the rehearsal yet, he was positive that everything would go well.

Adam didn’t have any family. They wanted nothing to do with him since he came out when he was a teenager. He’d gone straight to the military, and the rest was history. 

Shiro was quite different, he obviously had his father and Keith but he had a collection of distant family. His father had insisted that he invite his paternal grandfather, who his dad didn’t have the best relationship with, and about a million cousins that he didn’t know he even _had_.

He obviously was going to invite Keith’s friends, who had become his friends. He became almost a father figure to them, which was stupid as he wasn’t that much older than them. Them and their families were some of the first people he put on the guest list.

Keith was going to be his best man. As soon as Adam proposed, that was what ran through his head. Keith was his brother, he had only been a kid when Shiro was injured but had been there for him, basically got him through it.

Keith had agreed, Shiro knew he would, had never doubted it. Keith had tried to help him with the wedding as much as he could, under the pretence of mockery, like he had literally done to him over the phone two hours ago.

_(Some things about his little brother would never change.)_

He’d done whatever Shiro had asked him to do, like when he’d sprung posting the invitations on him the other day. He was already getting RSVP’s for it. He’d been scrolling through his emails for the past half an hour, he’d gotten a few from his cousins. A few from family friends like the Holts, who was travelling back down for it, Matt had become one of his close friends and was going to be a groomsman. The Garretts, who would be catering the wedding as well, him and Adam wouldn’t have anyone else do it. Allura and her family, a dad and her slightly mad uncle, would obviously be attending. She was going to do a speech for Adam, they had known each other the longest.

He’d sent out one to the McLain family, but they had graciously declined. Apparently one of the younger McLain’s birthday was on the same day. They said they wished they could come and sent their congratulations. Shiro didn’t _expect_ them to come, they hadn’t talked in years, since Lance left.

Him and Adam has debated whether to send Lance that invitation. They’d eventually agreed to send it, along with a note. Again, they didn’t expect Lance to even reply.

_(Though Shiro desperately hoped he did.)_

He assumed that Lance was probably going to attend his brother’s birthday anyway.

Or at least he did.

Shiro heard his phone buzzing across the room, it was an unknown number. He guessed it was one of those scam insurance company trying to sell him something, he’d been getting a bunch recently and he was getting sick off them. He picked up with a sigh.

‘Look, whatever you’re trying to sell me I don’t-’

‘Shiro?’ The familiar voice jarred him. He’d heard it on the radio almost daily, in the interviews that he watched sometimes. But he also heard the teenager that he knew, a joker who could make his brother laugh until he couldn’t breathe, the whispering voice he heard over the phone some nights when Keith thought Shiro was asleep.

‘ _Lance_?’

‘Oh thank fuck. I thought I got the number wrong.’ He heard a breath of relief from the other end of the phone.

‘What- Why are you calling?’

‘I got your invitation. I’m in town for the wedding. I’m staying in that crappy hotel a few blocks from the church.’

‘You’re actually _here_?” Shiro was in disbelief. ‘For- for the wedding?’

‘Congratulations by the way, I knew you two get together eventually.’

Thanks. But-?’ ‘

‘But to answer your question. Yeah, I’m back. I’m home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tip: Don’t listen to Pray for the Wicked while trying to write. It’s too much of a bop.
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading! Comment if you liked it. Criticism is always welcome, I know my writing is far from perfect.
> 
> See you next chapter!


	4. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance’s father health scare. Lance’s guilt. Keith’s comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a new chapter for you all! It’s not the reunion chapter, that will come soon I promise. But it for more in depth with Lance’s religion and his family relationships. I hope you enjoy!!

Lance knew his father was sick. Really sick. The rose-tinted glasses had come off when his father collapsed one evening in front of him.

He later found out this wasn’t the first time it had happened. His parents had made the decision to hide his father’s illness from the children for the first few months, _why_ exactly he still didn’t know.

His mother claimed that they wanted to protect them, but their choice just caused a bitter resentment between the adults and the children that old enough to understand what was happening to their family. Even little Leo, the youngest at only six, could tell something was very wrong.

As the months went on his father barely left his bedroom, too ill most days to get out of bed or stand up. Lance felt hopeless. On the days where his father came downstairs and entertained Leo with his light up toys, or listened to the twins, Luis and Veronica, argue about something unimportant, Lance could imagine everything was normal. His dad was just that, a dad, not a thin, frail skeleton of a man who spent his days wasting away in a bedroom.

_(It was getting harder to ignore that fact though.)_

He would hear his father in the night, while his brothers slept soundly. Sounds of rattling coughs and hacks would make their way through the thin walls, along with his mother’s comforting murmurs.

_(He wasn’t a child. He knew what it all meant.)_

Lance was aware that his father was going to die. He just didn’t know when. He didn’t know why.

_(He always had this little seed of hope in him. Hope that his father would get through this. That his family could be what it was before again.)_

He was the third oldest, second oldest in the house, Marco was twenty-two and in university, living in some shitty dorms he scraped together enough money for. Nina, his older sister, and him were expected to look after the younger ones, be responsible. But Lance was just a kid, he wanted to go out with his friends and recklessly fuck around, he wanted to get steaming drunk, he wanted to act out without someone giving him _pity_.

_(He didn’t want to just be known as the poor kid with the dying parent.)_

That’s why he loved Hunk and Pidge so much. They sympathised with Lance but didn’t treat him like glass that would break if the topic was brought up. He appreciated that.

Keith reacted in a different way. He didn’t say much about it, didn’t say much about anything really. Keith was strangely quiet but he was a good listener. It was only a couple of months since they had first met, since Keith had been introduced into their inner circle. Lance found he quite liked having him around. When Keith did talk he said something stupidly cryptic or oddly hilarious, he definitely was a good addition to the friendship group, similar to Pidge in some ways.

_(Yeah, Lance really liked having him around.)_

Lance’s father hadn’t been doing so good in the last week, his days downstairs with the family had decreased to an hour, if that. He’d heard his mother whispering to Nina with worry in her tone and fear in her eyes. Lance had squeezed his eyes shut and held his necklace, gripping it tight, whispering a frantic prayer. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

_(Though he wasn’t even sure that God could salvage his father, there were too many missing parts that they couldn’t find.)_

 

Lance had been walking in from school one afternoon, laughing at something Pidge had put in the group chat.

“Hey ma, you’ll never guess what-“

Lance turned the corner and saw his father on the floor. He dropped whatever was in his hands, that didn’t matter because his father was on the floor and fuck fuck fuck was he _breathing_? He fell to the floor.

“Dad. Dad, wake up. _Please_ , no no no-”

Lance grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. He saw the damp patches on his father’s shirt, fucking hell. He needed to stop crying and get his shit together. Phone an ambulance or something, _shit shit shit_.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t fucking move.

He couldn’t breathe.

_(Once again, Lance felt helpless.)_

Luckily, Lance’s mother chose this moment to open the front door, he heard the keys rattle and he thanked God and Jesus and just about every other deity that came to mind.

“Lance? What’s going on?” She gasped when she saw the sight before her. Her husband unresponsive and her son paralysed. “Dios mío. Lance, have you phoned an ambulance?”

There was no reply, he just couldn’t make his mouth move.

“Ok. It’s ok. I’m phoning one now.” She quickly grabbed her phone out her pocket and dialled 911.

Everything outside was blurry, Lance could only concentrate on the feeling of his father’s shoulders under his hands, could barely control the shallow breaths that he took in. The one time his dad actually needed him and he couldn’t do anything. Why was he so fucking useless?

It felt like years until the ambulance arrived, but also like no time had passed at all. The paramedics rushed in, Nina and the other kids following with distraught and confused expressions.

His mother attempted to gently pry him from his father. “Lance. Baby, come on. Let them have a look.” After a few pulls he let go and dissolved into his mother’s arms, finally letting out the quiet sobs he’d been holding in.

 

His father was admitted to hospital, he was still alive. The doctors had managed to find a weak pulse and bring him back. The rest of the McLains gathered around him, the twins squeezed into one of the chairs and told him about what had happened at school that day. Rosa, his other little sister sat on his father’s knee with Leo and read a book to them both. Nina and Lance’s mother held a hand each of theirs’, the worry in their faces making them look even more alike.

Lance? Lance stood in the back of the room for two hours, guilt eating away at him like a damn _parasite_. He knew logically it wasn’t his fault, but he can’t help but wonder what would of happened if he hadn’t been talking with Hunk when they got off the bus, if he’d got home faster. If he had called an ambulance earlier instead of freezing like an fucking idiot.

_(He couldn’t be in that hospital room a second longer.)_

He opened the door and left. Closing it silently to not disturb his family. He didn’t deserve to be in there with them anyway.

 

It was around eleven at night when Keith got a phone call. The buzzing woke him up, he didn’t recognise the number but rubbed his eyes and answered it anyway.

‘Hello?’

‘Keith? Is that you?’ A familiar accented voice came frantically through the phone.

‘Mrs. McLain? What the matter?’

‘It’s Lance.’ That woke Keith up with a start. Lance? What had happened to Lance?

‘Is he okay? What’s happened?’ Keith asked, almost as frantic as Mrs. McLain has been at the beginning of the call.

‘We can’t find him anywhere. He’s not at home or the hospital. You’re his friend, could you- what is it Luis?’ There was a muffled child’s voice he could hear faintly. ‘Dios mío, thank you baby.’ He heard Mrs. McLain turn her face back to the phone. ‘Keith are you still there?’

‘I’m still here Mrs. McLain.’

‘Luis thinks that Lance might be at the church. You know the one? I would go but I think he needs a friend right now. Would you-‘ Keith cut her off.

‘I’ll go, don’t worry. I’ll find him.’

 

The church had always been a place of comfort for Lance. He’d come since he was a child. He’d been so small when he first came that he’d struggled to climb on to the pews, his mother lifting him up and letting him sit in her lap.

Church was important to him, God was important to him, as much a part of his life as anything else. The God he believed was not necessarily the one they were told about in Sunday school. His God was forgiving, He didn’t hate him for liking boys just as much as girls, as long as Lance _believed_ his God was there, he was there. He wore his cross around his neck everyday, as a reminder that someone out there was protecting him.

People didn’t expect Lance to be religious. The language he used was enough to make any preacher or other holy man cringe, obviously there was the whole bisexual thing. His family didn’t care, they’d been raised to believe God loved and not hated. His church didn’t care, they never had sermons on why being gay, or liking the same sex was wrong. It was only some of the elderly churchgoers that made little comments, things they’d slip into conversations that Lance would pretend not to pick up on.

Another thing he loved about church was the choir. He’d started singing in church when he was very young. Singing hymns was how he realised his love for music, he’d always give his church credit for that discovery.

Right now, he’d come to the church to find peace and clarity, to stop his mind racing with ‘what if’s’ and wondering if he was to blame. He was sitting in one of the pews, the church was uncharacteristically empty, not even the caretaker was there.

He breathed deeply, in and out, and closed his eyes. His leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the cool wood on the pew in front of him. He was so distracted with his thoughts that he didn’t hear the heavy wooden doors being pulled open.

“Hey.” The voice came from near the entrance, it was quiet and soft but echoed round the silent church, bouncing off the walls and high ceilings. Lance turned and there stood the last person he’d expect.

Keith.

He made his way to the pew that Lance was sitting on. Walking down the aisle with footsteps that made a creaking sound as they made contact with old wooden floor. He slid easily next to Lance. They sat in silence for a while. The only noises in the entire church being their breaths.

“Why are you here?.” Lance whispered hoarsely, it seemed wrong to talk loudly in such a quiet place, like their conversation would be a secret that they didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Your mom called me.” Keith replied at the same volume. “She’s really worried about you.”

Lance turned to face Keith, his face was kinder than he’d ever seen him, Lance could see in his eyes that he had no walls up. He’d never noticed Keith’s eyes before, he didn’t know how. They were unusual, like the colour of the night sky. There was moonlight shining through the artwork on the stained glass windows, creating little flecks of light in his eyes. His face was softer than Lance thought it could ever be, from what he’d seen of Keith. All his rough edges seemed to be smooth under the lighting of the church. Lance was suddenly aware of how loud his heart was beating.

“Do you ever feel like a sinner?” Lance asked, focusing his gaze anywhere but Keith’s eyes. He didn’t want his guilt to be to obvious and he felt Keith’s eyes could see through him. His thoughts.

“Oh.” Keith seemed surprised by the question. “Well, I’m not really religious but I guess sometimes. Why?”

“Today when my dad collapsed, when I thought he might be dead. I froze up, like literally frozen, I couldn’t move and-“ Lance cut himself off and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat. “And I can’t help but think that somewhere in me I wanted him to go, that all the selfish thoughts I’ve had, about how much stress he’s putting on my mom and Nina, caused it.” Lance’s could feel his throat and his eyes burning, he breathed slowly. He would not cry.

_(He would not cry in front of Keith.)_

“Lance, hey. This was not your fault. It’s only normal you’ll have those thoughts, your family is going through a hard time and no one wants that.” Keith placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. He tried to pull Lance’s attention back to his face but Lance kept staring into space. He heard Keith sigh.

“Look, when my mom died I was in the car with her. I was eight and pissed because she wouldn’t buy me a new toy or something stupid. I told her hated her and-“ Now it was Keith’s turn to get emotional, Lance could tell he didn’t tell this story often. “She turned to look at me and next thing you know another car crashed into us. She died on impact, I only got a broken arm and a bit of concussion. But the point is I blamed myself, I still do. It’s not healthy. Your dad _survived_ , he’s still here. Be thankful.”

Keith finished by grabbing Lance’s hand, a jolt of electricity went through Lance’s body. What the _fuck?_

They sat in silence for a while. Keith’s hand still on Lance’s. Everything was too quiet for them too move, to speak. They were balanced one confession to another. There was nothing else to say, only wait for a decision to be made. He looked at Keith again, he had his eyes closed like he was sleeping, if he weren’t for his chest rising  he would look like a statue. Old and young. Alive but unmoving. Molded to perfection. 

Lance closed his eyes.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok, I’ll go home. Ok, I’ll be thankful.” Lance said, nudging Keith with his shoulder slightly before standing up. Keith joined him after a second, looking up at him with a smile, more genuine than Lance had ever seen.

“Let’s go then, I think your mom might actually murder me if I don’t get you back home soon.” Keith said as he turned and went to leave the pew. Lance grabbed his arm and he quickly spun back around.

“Thank you, Keith.” Lance shook his head and smiled a little. “Just- _thank you_.”

Keith nodded once and walked out of the church strangely fast, Lance didn’t think anything of it, his mind too full. Lance turned his head to look at the front of the church, breathed in once again and made to follow Keith out of the entrance.

They walked in comfortable silence and when they reached Lance’s front door, they said their goodbyes. Lance made to open the door but looked back right before he could. He watched Keith walk down the driveway and a small smile played on his lips. Lance realised what he was doing and a single thought came to his mind.

_Oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment if you have any opinions or improvements I could make.


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance meet up. Pidge has a hangover and opinions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally up!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I ended up loving it a lot more than I thought I would. Also Pidge has just become my favourite POV to write from. Again I’m sorry that I can’t write dialogue but I’m trying I swear.

 “I’m back. I’m home.”

Shiro had heard the words, as clear as a bell. But he hadn’t _believed_ them. The Lance he had known had been a young, immature child. Lance had never given them the chance to see him grow into a man. This person on the phone was someone he didn’t know, didn’t recognise beyond the voice.

Through the years that Lance had been gone, Shiro had secretly kept an eye on him. He watched interviews and read every article he could find, no matter how seedy or corrupted the source was. He did it because no matter how far away Lance was, no matter how much of a different person he was, there was always the memory of the teenager he knew, preserved in knowing he was safe.

_(Knowing that as long as he was ok, there was a chance he might return home.)_

Shiro remembered the first time he had heard of him. Keith, although he tried to hide it, was excited to have met people that he liked. Pidge, Hunk and, of course, Lance McLain.

Keith had always been a lonely kid, never having anyone there for in his preteen years. Shiro had tried to be there when they became brothers but one person couldn’t fufill a hole that had been empty of human interaction for so long.

Shiro had been nineteen when he first met Keith, but he could admit he hadn’t always been there, he’d entered the military a year earlier, as soon as he was able to.

Like Lance, Shiro had also felt trapped in his life, he felt like he had so much he wanted to do, so much to offer that he would _burst_ if he didn’t do something about it. He wanted to leave, to experience things, travel new places. He figured the army was the best way to do it, to do all the things he desperately longed to do while doing something he believed in. A win-win situation.

_(It didn’t turn out to be that.)_

A year into his service Keith was discovered. He came home to visit, finding a tiny scrap of a boy with dark hair and scared eyes and Shiro was overcome with the overwhelming urge to protect him.

_(Shiro liked to think he was good at protecting him at it at the time, though now he realised he could’ve done more.)_

He left for the army as soon as he thought Keith was settled enough with their father. He was reluctant to leave his family in this delicate state, the strange dynamic between Keith and their dad still extremely fragile but his urge for adventure along with Keith’s explicit permission persuaded him to, he went back to the army.

It was then he met Adam and they had hit it off. He respected him. Respect which then quickly turned into admiration. Admiration with then mutated into them both reverting into middle school kids with a crush, blushing cheeks and stammering voices were included. 

Allura would often say, even long after they had all left the army, for such fierce and savvy soldiers on the field it was like they knew nothing, could only focus on each other in a room of many.

He wrote letters to Keith, phoned when he could. Shiro tried desperately to bond with his half-brother and they succeeded despite the distance. There were jokes over the phone and and pictures sent through the post. Keith even sent him essays that he had written for school so Shiro could see his improvement and be proud of him. Which he _was_ , he was indescribably proud of the person Keith was becoming.

Sometimes Shiro forgot that this normalcy and routine he had with Keith couldn’t last, that he was still fighting in a foreign country. That there were still risks, that the risks were high.

Things came crashing down fast after a certain mission went sideways. It was nothing unusual, Shiro and a few others had done this multiple times. They’d had reports of a hostage situation in one of the towns near where they were stationed.

He went in confident but still wary and came out unconscious, half his arm blown off.

He came out of it halfway into a figurative body bag.

Nobody knows what happened for definite but it seemed that the person who had taken the hostages had set of a bomb in a family home and Shiro, ever the self sacrificing hero, had thrown himself on it. His arm had been a bloody mess when Adam and their team had found him.

_(They couldn’t save it. Shiro somehow felt like he had left some of himself on the battlefield.)_

The Keith he had seen after his injury had been closed off and scared, Shiro didn’t want to be the one that had caused him to revert back to his old self.

He knew Keith heard him at night, when he was plagued with nightmares. He knew Keith tried to protect him. He didn’t _want_ Keith to just protect him his whole life.

_(He also knew that was slightly hypocritical of him.)_

After they moved Shiro would ask Keith if he’d made any friends, when Keith finally said yes, Shiro was, once again proud.

_(He could never stop being proud of Keith.)_

When he’d first met Lance, and the many times after that, and saw the way Keith looked at him, he’d suspected that they might end up together. They eventually did.

Then Lance left, they’d only heard from him a few times since he did. Then the contact stopped permanently. Until now.

“You’re _here_?” He couldn’t hide the disbelief ringing through his words.

“Like I said, I’m staying in the shit hotel by the church. Emphasis on shit, it’s like rat central in here.” There was the Lance that Shiro knew, joking freely like he’d never been away. “Shiro? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. How have you been?” He figured the best way to go was ask how his years away have been, before going on why he left and why in god’s name didn’t he ever call them back?

“I’m fine. Hey, is the coffee place by the school still there?”

“Slav’s?” Shiro asked, somehow surprised Lance remembered. He knew it had only been a few years since Lance had left, and it was stupid to think Lance _wouldn’t_ remember, but it felt like so much longer.

“Can we meet there? It’ll be easier to catch up in person rather than the through the phone?” Lance said. “Also, I really need to get out of this room.”

“Umm. Sure. But Lance, does anyone else know you’re back?” The thought hit him like a brick. Did the others know he was here? Did _Keith_ know he was here?

“It’s complicated. I’ll meet you at two?” Lance said quickly, hurrying the syllables hoping that Shiro wouldn’t hear, a trick he used to do when he was a kid.

“That’s fine. But Lance-” The phone call ended abruptly, coming from Lance’s side. He was always good at avoiding, or at least delaying, the important conversations. He could think of a reason that Lance was trying to procrastinate having that particular conversation.

Shiro checked his watch, he had half an hour until he met Lance at the coffee house.

God, Keith was going to kill him.

 

Lance didn’t remember this hotel to be as _dirty_ as it was. Though he’d only stayed here once, when he was sixteen he and his friends had gone out with the intention of camping in the nearby woods, so they could getting drunk without any of their parents knowing.

It had ended up raining, water coming from the sky in violent streams, and they forced Pidge’s brother, Matt, to book them a hotel room. They’d all crammed into this tiny room, Hunk slept on the floor, and he made sure they were all aware of of how uncomfortable he was the whole night. Pidge curled up into one of the chairs, pulling her body in a small ball. He shared the bed with Keith.

He remembered how _nervous_ he had been to do so, they’d already confessed their feelings towards each other and were in that middle stage of ‘were they together or were they not?’

_(He had hoped it was the first option.)_

Lance shook his head. Fucking hell, he was aware being back would bring back all the memories he’d tried to forget over the years. But every time he turned around there was something there that brought back a flurry of them all at once. There was a part of him that hoped he could go through his time here avoiding people, dramatically hiding behind lampposts and in bushes.

He knew that was idiotic, the town wasn’t that big. He’d decided to call Shiro, partly because Lance only had Shiro’s number and partly because he would be the one most likely to defend him, Shiro had this parental instinct in him. Though, again impulsively, he couldn’t believe he’d asked to meet with him so soon. The request was out of his mouth before he could control it.

He planned to take a couple of days, planning excuses and reasons that were half-truths. He thought he would go to church and pray for some divine intervention or knowledge that would help him understand what to do.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, it wasn’t like he could just go up to Shiro, shake his hand and say, ‘ _Hey! Sorry for breaking your little brother’s heart and abandoning you all with no contact for five years! How’ve you been?_ ’ He would hate himself if he said that.

_(He sort of hated himself for leaving anyway.)_

That thought had been in the back of Lance’s head for years, he would never allow it to move the forefront otherwise he knew he would have hopped on the first bus back home and tried to fill the chasm that he felt growing inside, hoping it could be combatted by movie nights, screaming laughter and a boy.

A boy with eyes that he could never forget.

_(Though his memory of them is slightly tainted by the hurt and pain he saw in them the last time they made an appearance.)_

Lance looked out the window of the room, out at the town and the home and the people he had left behind as he had sprinted into bright promises of fame and glory. The promise of being known by everyone, but maybe he didn’t need the whole world to know him. Only a select few.

Lance stood up, a newfound determination crawling through him. He would be _known_ again, and he would relearn the people that he’d loved. Shiro, Allura, Adam, Hunk, Pidge and... Keith.

 

The way to Slav’s was embedded in Lance, the muscle memory coming from daily visits to the coffee house. Before school and after. Weekday and weekend. It was the designated meeting place for his group. So, walking along the paths, it was almost like an afterthought.

Some things had changed of course, the old bookshop where he would take his younger brother on the weekends had become a drugstore and the bakery that used to give off a smell of warm bread that traveled through the streets had been knocked down.

It wasn’t like he _expected_ things to stay unchanging, like the town was trapped in this bubble where time didn’t pass. But a large part of him wished he’d seen it happen.

The small ring of the bell on top of the door brought Lance up from his thoughts.

_(He couldn’t seem to escape them these days.)_

His eyes searched the coffee house, taking in the warm murmur of conversation around him. He quickly ordered a coffee and chose a booth, walking briskly to it, hiding his face. For once in his life he didn’t want people to pay attention to him.

_(He was surprised at that as well.)_

It felt like years of listening to drinks being ordered and the constant whirring of machines before he heard the door jingle again. Lance’s head shot up so fast he could have sworn he pulled something.

The man walking over to him had a look on his face that Lance could imagine he was mirroring back. Eyes widened, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly opened.

Shiro hadn’t changed much, Lance noticed as he got closer. Shiro still had that scar on across his face, though it had faded a lot, a lighter pink now. Lance noticed he’d stopped dying his hair, the uneven white parts in it apparent.

Lance wondered when Shiro had stopped caring about that. When he had stopped being ashamed and had thought; _fuck it, this is proof of what I did, how much I sacrificed._

Shiro sat down and Lance heard the creak of the leather underneath him. The silence was long, but not as awkward as it should be. Lance didn’t know what to say, it was like words were floating around his brain but he couldn’t get a firm enough grasp on them.

Mercifully, Shiro was the one who spoke first.

“Lance. It’s good to see you.” His voice was confident, if Shiro was unsure, it didn’t show.

“Hey. Umm. It’s nice to see you too.” Lance cringed, fucking hell, why couldn’t he act normal?

“This is a surprise. I mean, when we sent the invites out, we didn’t think you’d respond. Nevermind come all the way out here.” Shiro chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm.

“It was spontaneous.”

“Nothing has changed about you then.” It wasn’t that the comfortable banter felt out of place, just unexpected.

“I wouldn’t say that. I just needed a break. Thought a wedding would cheer me up.” Lance replied causally, he didn’t want to tell Shiro how bad it had gotten. That he thought he might breakdown if he had to spend another _minute_ there, living with his mistakes alone.

“There’s still two months to go until then Lance, why did you come down this early?”

“Like I said I needed a break. LA takes a lot out of you, you know?”

“Not personally, but I get it.” Shiro nodded and Lance took a sip of his coffee, it was almost cold now but he needed something to do with his hands or he might implode.

“You know, you could stay with me and Adam, if you don’t feel like going back to...what did you call it?” Shiro asked with a smile. “Rat central?”

Lance wasn’t surprised Shiro asked, he’d expected he would. Shiro was always this older parental figure, he’d be the first to offer a room for someone who needed one.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. He’ll only mind a little.”

A part of Lance didn’t want to agree, he was already going to be in enough shit with people. This would aggravate it more. But fuck, he really wanted to sleep in a room that didn’t have squeaks coming through the walls.

“Thanks, I think I’ll take you up o that offer.” Lance returned the smile, not the smile that he did for photoshoots or interviews, but a real smile.

“But first things first, you haven’t told _anybody_ else you’re back?” There was the question that Lance didn’t want to here. He was still deliberating how to approach that area, he needed time.

_(Time was not what he got.)_

 

When Pidge woke up this morning, she did not expect her day to go like this. Ok, well she didn’t wake up in the _morning_ , it was more like midday, but you get the gist.

She’d pulled herself out of bed, very vocal to no one in particular about the fact that she did not want to do so, groggily opened the door and walked to Keith’s room. Where she gracefully flopped face first onto his bed. A regular, Sunday morning occurrence. No matter how many times she got pissed, she could never hack the hangovers. Keith however was surprisingly up and dressed and was tapping away on his laptop.

“Why are you up? How are you not _dead_?” She groaned into his duvet. Her head was throbbing and everything was too fucking bright.

“Maybe because I shared a bottle with Hunk, while you drank the other one on your own.” She could see his smirk even with her eyes closed. “I mean, that’s just an idea.”

“Here’s an idea, go fuck yourself.”

“Bitch.”

“Fucker.” Pidge replied without any heat, she was too tired to be annoyed. She pushed herself up and crawled to sit next to Keith. “What‘re you doing?” She glanced at the screen.

“Writing my speech.” He replied, his eyes never leaving the computer. “For the wedding.”

“Shouldn’t you have already done that by now?”

“Shouldn’t you have woken up _before_ twelve in the afternoon?” Keith said without missing a beat.

She and Keith had developed a friendship which mostly consisted of them insulting each other in a deadpan voice. They never really fought, except for the ‘Rover incident’ which was completely unreasonable and she was _obviously_ in the right, she saved a fucking cat for god’s sake.

Neither of them got offended when they gently bullied each other, it was just their way of showing their friendship. They were best friends, they didn’t mean any of the shit they said to each other.

When she first met Keith on his first day of school, she had been the one to initiate him into the inner circle. Which had turned out to be one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

_(Except saving Rover from the landfill, that topped anything she would ever do because she fucking loved that cat.)_

Hunk, Keith and her had been there for each other for years, getting each other through everything.

When Hunk’s grandma died, Keith and Pidge were the ones holding him while he cried.

When Pidge’s parents moved away, Keith agreed to move in straight away so they wouldn’t make her go with them and leave everything behind.

When Lance left and Keith wouldn’t fucking talk for _days_ , they were the ones who made him eat and laid down in his bed with him until he fell asleep. Not being there for each other was alien to them, they loved each other.

She remembered sneaking Keith into her bedroom to play Mario Kart at night as a teenager, when her parents found out they thought that they were _convinced_ that they were together.

She couldn’t imagine that, one reason being because they were both so fucking gay that the thought was not appealing and partly because he was like her brother, a slightly older brother with stupid hair.

“Don’t go back to sleep you fucking idiot. You have a job.” Pidge opened her eyes to Keith nudging her with his shoulder, she must have dozed off.

“Fuck off. I want to be unconscious right now, not serving weak ass coffee to cowards.” Pidge groaned as she dropped her head to leaned on Keith’s shoulder. “Also my shift doesn’t start until three, it’s fucking fine.”

“Whatever. Then you can help me write this speech. How many embarrassing stories about Shiro can we fit into an thirty minute time slot?”

“How many have you got?”

 

She ended up helping Keith for twenty minutes before she couldn’t breathe through her laughter and decided it would be better for her health if she stopped. Shiro was a fucking _collection_ of humiliating comedy.

She made herself some lunch, which was just the cold pizza that they had left in the living room. She was a twenty-one year old on a budget, she couldn’t afford things like grocery shopping, not in this failing economy.

_(She had also dubbed herself cynical bitch, a fact which no one could truly disagree with her on.)_

Pidge fed Rover and killed time by playing with her for a bit, then when she got bored with that, she phoned her brother to talk shit. As always. Matt was scandalous for a wannabe rocket scientist.

Pidge sometimes felt like she was letting her family down. Her parents were both academics, her brother’s goal was to build rockets for fuck’s sake, and what was she? A kid who worked at a coffee house and took online classes. She knew she was smart enough to do anything she wanted, she just...wasn’t sure what she wanted.

But right now she wanted to hear gossip about Matt’s coworkers, and hey wasn’t that enough?

_(She wasn’t sure it was.)_

When the clock stared getting closer to three, she changed out of her pyjamas and grabbed her bag.

“I’m leaving, dickface.” She shouted to Keith, who was still working on his best man speech. Keith Kogane, the fucking _king_ of procrastination.

“Alright, shithead.” The voice came back with a reply. Pidge smiled, she loved the conversations they had together.

She opened the door and walked out. It was colder than it should have been and as she was strolling along the sidewalk she regretted not getting a jacket. She decided not to go back. She was already going to be late and if she was, holy _shit_ , Slav would be on her back about how being late means you’re 57% more likely to get fired. Then you’re 86% more likely to lose your house and _die_ or whatever. She really didn’t know where Slav got these statistics.

The coffee house came into view and she hurried her pace a bit, she was feeling a lot better and had the sudden craving to glare at people who ordered anything weaker than a cappuccino, Hunk for example.

The door let out a familiar bell ring as Pidge pushed it open, the warmth of the place enveloping her. It wasn’t that busy inside just a few groups of friends and a couple of people on their laptops.

She was going to find a spare apron somewhere in the staff room when she stopped dead.

Shiro was here, which wasn’t out of the ordinary, he couldn’t survive without a daily coffee. It was the person sitting opposite him that made Pidge freeze in the spot. She would recognise him anywhere, she had spent far to long with him to not.

Lance _fucking_ McLain.

She just stared for a few seconds desperately trying to catch Shiro’s eye. What was _happening_?

Shiro eventually saw her after a few frantic hand gestures and confused faces courtesy of Pidge. His eyes widened comically as he shook his head, a small enough movement so that Lance wouldn’t notice. But Pidge got the meaning.

 _Don’t say anything_. She could guess that involved telling Hunk and Keith.

Shiro owed her _so_ fucking much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter! 
> 
> If you liked it or have any improvements for me, please leave a comment!
> 
> Also I was listening to feel it still by portugal. the man on loop while writing this chapter and honestly a bop?


	6. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance plays the guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT! I’m sorry I basically abandoned this work for a month and a bit, my mental and physical health has been so bad, I’m dealing with a lot of anxiety/depression and chronic pain so I have been so unmotivated. I know this isn’t my best but ive been really trying the past couple of days to write a chapter to force myself to fetch something out + my phone broke so I lost all of the work I did on that. But I hope it’s still okay, and the next chapter will be the reunion!

There were many times in the months following the night at the church where Lance denied his feelings, that he swore that secret, fond smile that followed Keith down the road didn’t come from his mouth, that he hadn’t felt a jolt of electricity run through his body when he had touched Keith’s hand.

Sometimes he liked to believe that what happened in the church was a hallucination, the stress of everything piling on top making him imagine Keith sitting on the pews beside him.

There were also times where Lance was struck by how _real_ those things were.

Through the following months his feelings became less like a whisper, a thing that could go by unnoticed if someone desired so and more tangible. They would follow him like a shadow and with every interaction, every laugh he shared with Keith, they would gain a more clear shape.

At some point Lance realised he liked Keith, but that didn’t mean he _accepted_ it.

He had fallen for friends before, the first person he’d ever had a crush on had a been a friend from middle school, he’d learned that some friendships couldn’t survive that strain. He wasn’t sure how strong his feelings for Keith were, but he knew it would hurt like hell if he confessed and Keith point blank rejected him. He also didn’t want to lose Keith’s friendship, especially when it was still relatively new.

So he kept them hidden.

 

Keith was in the bedroom Lance shared with his brothers, lying on one of the two bottom bunks in the room. One of the top bunks was covered with boxes and binders, Keith had guessed this bed had belonged to the oldest McLain, Marco, who had already gone to college.

Lance was lying on the parallel bunk to his, tapping out a rhythm on the back of his phone and humming slightly under his breath. It was a song Keith didn’t recognise but he liked the way Lance easily breathed out the tune.

Lance was always doing something like this, tapping his foot on the floor or rapping his knuckles on a desk, if it was an animate object, it was an instrument to him, an opportunity to make music. Keith eyed the brown guitar in the corner of the room, it looked second hand and had peeling star stickers stuck on the body. There was a shirt draped over it and a pair of shoes surrounding it, a pair of shoes which weren’t the same size or colour.

Keith _adored_ the chaos of the McLain house, loved that there was always something cooking in the stove, that there was always shouting and laughter coming from all angles, he didn’t realise he’d even wanted a loud and obnoxious family until he met them. But, in all his days losing himself in the strange little world of the McLains, he’d never heard this guitar.

“You play it, right?” Keith asked, head gesturing towards the instrument.

Lance looked away from his phone and nodded. “Since I was a little kid.”

“How come I’ve never heard you play then asshole?” Keith sat up, genuinely curious.

“I’m not that good, Marco was always better, My dad-” Lance stoppe talking.

 _Shit_ _shit_ _shit_ , Mr. McLain had gone back into hospital today for another checkup, that was part of the reason Keith was here now, to keep Lance distracted and sane. Hunk and Pidge usually had this job but they both had family things today, so the responsibility fell on Keith.

It wasn’t like he minded, he just wasn’t very good at striking up a conversation, they’d been sitting in silence for the best part of an hour now and Keith didn’t think he was doing a very good job.

Especially now that Lance’s eyes were growing wider and Keith could see the rise and fall of his chest get quicker. He had to do something to stop Lance’s mind from whirring, to stop all his worries and anxieties for just a few minutes. So Keith said the first thing he thought of.

“Play for me then?”

Lance looked up. “What?” His voice sounded strangled, like he couldn’t catch his breath.

“Prove it, play me something, anything.” Keith felt bad for the slightly mocking tone his voice took on but it meant he was challenging Lance, and Lance could never resist a challenge.

“Oh fuck off.” But Lance still stood up, he picked up the guitar more gently than Keith thought he could ever be. He sat down on the floor next to the bed Keith was on and crossed his legs, moving a little orange truck out of the way to do so. Lance’s hands were still shaking but he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Keith was about to ask how Lance was going to play when he couldn’t see, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Lance started to play.

It was a simple tune at first. A high, repetitive melody that pulled at something in Keith. It was airy and light and breezy and played with ease. Lance’s long fingers plucking at the strings like Keith was sure had been done many times before.

Then Lance’s fingers sped up, the tune darkening slightly, lower notes vibrating across the strings. He had screwed his eyes up and his shoulders were hunched as he threw himself into the music. Keith realised that Lance didn’t just _play_ , he played with everything he had in him, even if it was only for Keith.

It wasn’t that it was perfect, every so often Keith would hear Lance stumble over a string, or hit another one on accident. But Lance still played them with such intensity that the mistakes started to sound like a part of the song, like a fall or a hitched breath.

Keith didn’t think he could ever get so fucking poetic.

He had never thought that music could be this beautiful either.

Keith was still staring wide-eyed even after Lance finished playing.

“Keith, buddy. You good?” Lance asked.

Keith wanted to ask him where he’d learned to play like that, like the rest of the world didn’t matter. But he didn’t.

“What’s that song?” Keith replies, he was slightly breathless, he didn’t know why.

“It’s mine, I mean, I guess it’s an original.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck and smiled nervously. “Did you- was it okay?”

 _Yes_. Better than okay. It made something in Keith _hurt_ , the way that Lance played with such ferocity, like the instrument was an extension of his hands.

“You’re fucking good man,” was all Keith could say. Lance had blushed and turned away, but Keith could see a smile spread across his face.

(Keith would never be completely sure about it, but he thinks this is when he started to fall for Lance.)

 

Lance was still smiling hours after Keith left. When parents had returned and said there was no change in his father’s health he was happier and more hopeful than he should have been.

Lance had composed that particular song a few months ago, he’d woken up in the middle of the night and found himself so awake and alive and full of so many feelings that his skin _itched_.

The song was about his father, his family, his dreams, his thoughts of Keith had weaved themselves through the notes. He’d written lyrics too, kept them locked inside his head, unlike the other songs he’d written, which he kept in a little box under his bed. This was too personal and playing it for Keith had almost left him feeling bare.

It was a good feeling though, he liked showing Keith himself. The Lance with no mask and no shield, even if he did keep some secrets to himself.

He’d seen Keith watch him play, seen  the way his eyes had lit up, and Lance knew that he’d felt  _something_ when he had heard the song.

Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Lance was in so fucking deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading (I hope you enjoyed it even a little)!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave any constructive criticism in the comments, I want to improve and would love that! Thanks for reading!!!


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